He looked up suddenly, and somehow she managed to meet those frozen eyes with a smile. His face could have belonged to any man, but those eyes… She was glad to be seated. Her knees were shaking so hard she was surprised it did not show through her skins. 'It is not quite that easy, I'm afraid.' She almost succeeded in keeping her voice steady. 'You… Surely you know enough to charge Suroth with the High Lord Turak's m-m-murder.' If he took Suroth, there would be no need to involve her, or Egeanin.
'Turak was a great man, but my duty is to the Empress, may she live forever, and through her, to the Empire.' He drank the brandy down in one long swallow, and his face became as hard as his voice. 'Turak's death is dust beside the danger facing the Empire. The Aes Sedai of these lands seek power in the Empire, a return to the days of chaos and murder when no man could close his eyes at night knowing he would wake, and they are aided by a venomous worm of treachery boring from within. Suroth may not even be that worm's head. For the Empire's sake, I dare not take her until I can kill the whole worm. Egeanin is a thread I can follow to the worm, and you are a thread to Egeanin. So you will renew your friendship with her, whatever it takes. Do you understand me?'
'I understand, and I will obey.' Her voice shook, but what else could she say? The Light save her, what else could she say?
Chapter 21: A Matter of Property
Egeanin lay on her back on the bed with her hands raised, palms toward the ceiling and fingers spread. Her pale blue skirts made a fan across her legs, and she tried to lie very still so as not to wrinkle the narrow pleats too much. The way dresses confined movement, they must be an invention of the Dark Lord. Lying there, she studied fingernails too long for her to lay hands on a line without breaking at least half. Not that she had personally handled lines in quite a few years, but she had always been ready and able to, at need.
'… plain foolheadedness!' Bayle growled, poking at the blazing logs in the brick fireplace. 'Fortune prick me,
The sea-green lacquer on the nails of her little fingers sparkled. She had always hoped to rise, eventually perhaps to Captain of the Gold, commanding fleets, as her mother had. As a girl, she had even dreamed of being named the Hand of the Empress at Sea just like her mother, to stand at the left hand of the Crystal Throne,
She doubted she would be given command of one greatship, however, much less a squadron. Suroth claimed to accept her story, but if so, why had she been left sitting at Cantorin? Why, when orders finally came, were they to report here and not to a ship? Of course, there were only so many commands available, even for a Captain of the Green. It might be that. She might have been chosen for a position near Suroth, though her orders said only that she was to travel to Ebou Dar by the first available means and await further instructions. Maybe. The High Blood might speak to the low without the intervention of a Voice, but it seemed to her that Suroth had forgotten her as soon as she was dismissed after receiving her rewards. Which also might mean Suroth was suspicious. Arguments that ran in circles. In any case, she could live on seawater if that Seeker had given over his suspicions. He had no more, or she would already be in a dungeon shrieking, yet if he was in the city, too, he would be watching her, waiting for one misstep. He could not shed so much as a single drop of her blood, now, but the Seekers were experienced at dealing with that minor difficulty. So long as he left it to watching, though, he could stare at her until his eyes shriveled. She had a stable deck under her feet, now, and from here on she would take great care how she stepped. Captain of the Gold might no longer be possible, yet retiring as Captain of the Green was honorable.
'Well?' Bayle demanded. 'What about that?'
Wide and solid and strong, just the sort of man she had always favored, he was standing beside the bed in his shirtsleeves, a frown on his face and his fists on his hips. Not a pose a
Hastily, she ran through what she had half-heard of his growling. Yes; still the same arguments after all this time. Nothing new. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she sat up and ticked points off on her fingers. She had done it so often, she could deliver them by rote. 'Had you tried to run, the
Stubborn man that he was, he scowled and scrubbed at his short beard irritably. 'I do still say we could have dropped it all over the side,' he muttered. 'That Seeker had no proof I did have it aboard.'
'Seekers do no need proof,' she said, mocking his accent. 'Seekers do find proof, and the finding do be painful.' If he was reduced to bringing up what even he had conceded long since, maybe she was finally nearing the end of the whole thing. 'In any case, Bayle, you have already admitted there is no harm in Suroth having that collar and bracelets. They can't be put on him unless someone gets close enough, and I've heard nothing that suggests anyone has or will.' She refrained from adding that it would not matter if someone did. Bayle was not really familiar with even the versions of the Prophecies they had on this side of the World Sea, but he was adamant that none mentioned the necessity of the Dragon Reborn kneeling to the Crystal Throne. It might prove necessary for him to be fitted with this male
'There always do be festivals of some sort,' he said slowly, grudgingly. He never liked giving up his argument, no matter how futile. 'Some may be to your taste. Some not, I do think. You do be… picky.' What did he mean by that? Suddenly he grinned. 'We could find a Wise Woman. They do hear marriage vows, here.' He ran his fingers across the shaven side of his scalp, rolling his eyes upward as though trying to see it. 'Of course, if I do recall the lecture you did give me on the 'rights and privileges' of my position,
Her mouth fell open. This was not something old. This was very, very new. She had always prided herself on being levelheaded. She had risen to command by skill and daring, a veteran of sea battles and storms and shipwreck. And right that moment she felt like a first-voyage fingerling looking down from the main peak, panicked and dizzy, with the whole world spinning around her and a seemingly inevitable fall to the sea filling her eyes.
'It is not so simple,' she said, surging to her feet so he was forced to step back. Light's truth, she hated sounding breathless! 'Manumission requires me to provide for your livelihood as a free man, to see you can support yourself.' Light! Words flooding out in a rush were as bad as being breathless. She imagined herself on a deck. It